Shadows on the Horizon
by F.Shep
Summary: Follow Shepard's story as she is forced to make a thousand hard decisions and see the consequences of her actions. Can Shepard maintain her identity and faith in the face of regret, dishonor, and a threat so vast that none were able to stand before it?
1. Prologue

**_Shadows on the Horizon_**

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_Disclaimer: This story, which is called "Shadows on the Horizon", is an independent fanfic. Neither this story, nor the author is authorized or sponsored by, nor licensed or affiliated in any way with any entity involved with or representing the development, marketing, distribution or support of EA, or BioWare Corporation. All titles, items, and characters, described or referred to in "Shadows on the Horizon" of the original game are trademarks of their respective companies. This fanfic is absolutely non-commercial and non-profit, and may not be distributed in any forms or in any parts without prior consent of the author " "._

_Author's Note: Shadows on the Horizon is a story that will explore Commander F!Shepard's experiences through Mass Effect, Mass Effect 2, and Mass Effect 3. There will be spoilers for each of these games throughout the story. Reviews and/or constructive criticisms are welcome. Questions about the story are also welcome through PMs._

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"War is hell, but that's not the half of it, because war is also mystery and terror and adventure and courage and discovery and holiness and pity and despair and longing and love. War is nasty; war is fun. War is thrilling; war is drudgery. War makes you a man; war makes you dead."

-Tim O'Brien, _The Things They Carried_

* * *

Shepard's gaze hovered over the night sky as it glittered with a million flecks of light.

She had been outside for hours already, drink in hand, watching as the sun lulled on the horizon and then faded into the shadow of night. She sat and watched as dark storm clouds began to brew in the stretch of her vision; watched as the occasional speckle of light illuminated the menacing mountains in the distance.

It was all so bizarre and ordinary at the same time, really.

Two weeks of shore leave had her doing nothing and thinking about _everything_. Her service career was moving forward in ways she wasn't expecting; a slew of medals decorated her uniform due to her actions during the Blitz and she found herself very close to her next promotion due to her willingness to go above and beyond what was asked of her by her commanding officer.

Shepard took another drink from the beer bottle in her hand.

Her social life, however, was a completely different story. She was damn near thirty years old and everything was a _wreck_. She was lucky to count the number of friends she had on one hand. Her romantic life had practically been dormant for a number of years; she couldn't even remember the last time she had been on a date, let alone start thinking of getting married or having children.

Shepard took a small, discontent breath.

Her thoughts turned to her current predicament, and frustration and disappointment bubbled inside of her. Every shore leave that she could manage, she was always running back to Earth; to a little home on the outskirts of the city that she remembered blissfully growing up in—at least for a time. She always wandered in and stayed for days on end hoping and praying she'd find family here and not end up alone like last time. She was disappointed every single time.

She wasn't sure why she was drawn to this specific place. Her family had only lived there for a limited number of years before they felt she was old enough to move with them from posting to posting due to their military careers.

She shrugged her shoulders lamely at her own thoughts.

Perhaps it was the gorgeous view of the natural landscape that drew her. Maybe it was how calm and serene everything was here compared to everywhere else. Or maybe, just _maybe_, it was the memories she had held onto and cherished from so long ago. They were simple, innocent things; playing in the dirt, catching butterflies, and baking cookies—

A loud roar of thunder in the clouds overhead shook Shepard from her innermost thoughts. The wind began to pick up speed around her, sending tangles of hair crashing into her face. The soft _pitter patter_ of rain on the leaves of nearby trees signaled it was time for her to get up and move inside.

With a lethargic groan Shepard sat up and wiggled her way out of the hammock she'd been laying in.

* * *

Shepard stepped through and closed the sliding door behind of her. The chill of the inside air swept immediately over her wet form and left her with a small, involuntary shudder. She moved a piece of dark hair clinging to her cheek and then looked up as the kitchen lights automatically illuminated the little room after detecting her presence.

A small puddle of water formed under her as she looked around the muted house. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do. She could sit around and watch vids alone the rest of the night . . . but that idea didn't really appeal to her. Searching the extranet for any interesting news or information had already failed twice within the past couple of hours she had spent before going outside. She put the empty bottle from her hand on the counter next to her and tapped her fingers in pensive thought.

A shower.

A hot, relaxing do-nothing-but-stand-under-the-water-for-an-hour shower; Shepard approved.

She made her way to the second floor of the house in a hurry, trying to pry her shoes off her feet one by one as she went up the stairs. A trail of wet clothes followed her as she wove her way through her room and stepped into the bathroom.

* * *

An hour and a half later had left Shepard with wet hair, dry clothes, and a renewed feeling of what pruned skin felt and looked like.

She ran a few fingers through her damp hair to try and rid it of some of the tangles that had formed since her shower. On the fifth step back down the staircase Shepard's eyes landed on a few objects next to the front door. Her breath caught in her throat. Luggage. Was it really. ..?

"Eva, darling!" Her mother called out from the kitchen with a wave as Shepard descended the stairs and rounded the corner. "I was wondering when you'd be down."

". . .mom?" Shepard asked, as she stood near the couch in the living room, still crippled with disbelief.

Hannah Shepard looked over at her daughter in the next room and gave her a kind, apologetic smile. "Sorry I'm a little late. I saw one of our old friends from Bekenstein—Aleana Zfrefinburg. Got to chatting with her and didn't realize the time. Do you remember her? She was the one that-."

Shepard wasn't even listening anymore. She hadn't seen her mother in so long that she almost didn't recognize her from this angle. The first noticeable difference that caught Shepard's eye was her mother's hair. The once golden, vibrant tresses had faded so much that she had a vast array of grey-white highlights. A smile inched into the corner of Shepard's lips; her mother's hair reminded her of a tender combination of milk and honey.

As Hannah turned to pour a glass of wine for each of them while still talking, Shepard looked over her mother's facial features. She still looked healthy, quite healthy _and _young for a woman her age but Shepard's discerning eye knew better. She could see the worry and frown lines that hadn't been there years ago. She could see the semi-dark circles clinging under her eyes and she could see the wrinkles where her forehead would normally crease.

Her mother was a proud woman; she was very outspoken and held a sense of authority that few others could muster. But she also tempered those things with love, compassion, and understanding. Shepard assumed that was one reason so many people looked up to her, respected her, and admired her. Shepard couldn't have asked for a better mother or role model.

An instant pang of regret overwhelmed Shepard at the sudden thought of time missed with the only family member she had left.

"I thought you said you weren't coming?" Shepard interrupted as Hannah moved around the kitchen and into the living room to hand Shepard the glass of deep red wine.

Hannah shrugged noncommittally "At first I wasn't. I had a long list of things I needed to do and reports to lead and projects to accomplish. . ."

Shepard finally took the glass from Hannah's hand and watched as her mother planted herself on the couch behind them. Shepard followed suit, and looked over at her mother after taking a sip of the bittersweet wine. "What changed your mind?" Shepard asked, curiosity seeping into her tone.

Hannah's lips curled into a pensive frown as she placed her wine glass on a nearby side table. A roar of thunder caught her attention before she looked back over at her daughter. "A feeling," she replied in earnest.

"A . . . feeling?" Shepard's eyebrows lifted in surprise; disbelief was etched on her features.

Hannah gave an affectionate laugh and sought out her daughter's free hand with her own. She gave it a soft, reassuring squeeze. "You'll come to fully understand the expression one day, I'm sure."

Shepard curled her knees under herself and looked out the window behind of them. The rain tapped softly on the glass from the outside storm and the occasional flash of lightning allowed Shepard to see the swaying trees in the backyard.

"I've missed you," Hannah admitted with another gentle squeeze of her hand. "And you've matured too, since the last time I've seen you."

Shepard shook her head and gave a tiny smile of her own. "It's been a while," she confessed.

* * *

A few hours later into the early morning and a bottle of wine later had Hannah and Shepard in the floor surrounded by a dozen datapads and lots of old, physical photographs.

"This one?" Shepard asked as she held up one of datapads in her hand.

"That one," Hannah said as she tapped on the screen.

The video started immediately from the beginning but Shepard already had a hint of what the vid was centered around; it was the medal ceremony she had been a part of after the Blitz. She shook her head.

"I'm so proud of you," Hannah said to Shepard as she lovingly touched her cheek.

Shepard sat contemplative for a moment as her mother doted on her. She looked back up at Hannah from the datapad, expression foreboding and serious. "Do you ever feel that you could do more with your life?"

Hannah tilted her head to the side curiously and dropped her hand from Shepard's cheek. "What do you mean?"

Shepard placed the datapad back down on the floor and crinkled her brows in uncertainty. "I just feel like . . . something _more _is calling me. That I'm not doing enough even when I try my hardest. I . . . don't know. It's hard to explain." Shepard's lips pursed in dissatisfaction.

Hannah's fingers fluttered over the numerous picture albums and datapads strewn around her, losing herself in the memories of had-beens and what-ifs.

"Your father was_ so_ proud of you," she mused as her fingers swept over a particular picture. The scene had Shepard's father holding her small frame on his shoulders. They were both laughing, their features lighting up in a never-ending cycle of ecstatic joy and lightheartedness as the hologram played over and over. "He always said you'd be the one to reach out and touch the stars like no one else could."

Shepard responded with a twitch of her lips to show appreciation of the memory.

"You'll find your place one day, Shepard." Hannah reassured her child. "And when you find it, you'll know it in your heart, in your soul; in your entire being." Hannah scooped up a datapad with a wedding scene. "In the end it'll just feel…._right_."

Shepard watched on in silence, a fleeting tinge of despair welling within the very core of her being. She promised herself that one day . . ._ one day_ she'd feel and understand what her mother was talking about.


	2. We're Counting on You

**_Shadows on the Horizon_**

**_Chapter One: We're Counting on You_**

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_Author's Note: First off I'd like to start by thanking everyone who has read my fanfic and/or found it interesting enough to add to their collections. It's appreciated. Second I'd like to note that the first few chapters might seem a little slow or perhaps bland to some… this is because I'd like to start the story off on a note that everyone recognizes and knows. There will be personal character stories/arcs and developments that have nothing to do with the original game once the story has been established. No copyright infringement intended. Happy reading!_

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"_Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them."_ -**William Shakespeare **

* * *

A few months later Commander Shepard was standing in the CIC of a Systems Alliance starship called _The __SSV Normandy__SR-1_.

Shepard watched as the holographic map of the galaxy glittered in the middle of the room. She had been studying it for a few minutes; watched in silence as different points of interest popped up as the image swirled.

That wasn't really what had caught her interest though. She had stopped because she had overheard Navigator Pressly in a call to Engineer Adams. The subject was an obvious one; everyone had been talking or whispering about the turian Spectre since he had stepped aboard. It was starting to affect morale and causing questions Shepard wasn't able to answer.

"I'm telling you, I just saw him! He marched by like he was on a mission!" Pressly complained to Adams.

"He's a Spectre. They're always on a mission." Adams fired back with humor laced in his tone.

"And we're getting dragged right along with him!" Pressly pressed his fingers to his forehead as if he was starting to form a headache.

"Relax, Pressly. You're going to give yourself an ulcer." Adams replied calmly. "Anyway, I need to focus on these calculations. We'll talk later."

Pressly exhaled loudly and then pushed a button on the terminal to end the call. He shook his head in disbelief at the relaxed attitude of it all and then returned to his own work.

Shepard pressed a gloved finger to her lips and made a mental note to speak to him and casually bring up his concerns. She decided to wait a few minutes before going to approach him, however, to make it less obvious that she had overheard his conversation.

After pressing a few buttons on the terminal in front of her to accept a certain exchange of information, Shepard looked up to see Pressly watching her. She gave him a friendly nod and took that as her cue to initiate conversation.

She made her way across the room and stood at the nearest terminal to him. She watched the exchange of information on the screen quietly with a cross of her arms.

Pressly turned slightly to face her, his brows rising in curiosity.

"Commander." His greeting was short and to the point; his head bowing in respect to the woman before him.

"Pressly," She returned as she looked his way.

He hesitated at first, scratching at his balding head before addressing her again. "Something I can do for you, Commander?"

Shepard wasn't one to usually dance around a subject. She felt being up-front and truthful about things would get you a lot further not just with people, but life in general.

"I overheard your conversation earlier with Adams." Shepard shifted her weight as she looked back to the terminal in front of her.

Pressly gave her another curious glance and tilted his head to the side. His tone was foreboding and anxious as he spoke. "You have to admit, there _is_ something odd about this mission. The whole crew feels it."

Shepard considered his words. The emotion in her surroundings was almost palpable; as if the air around them had curled its wispy fingers around their forms and whispered doubt and mistrust into their souls. Her own brows crinkled in silent thought as she looked back to him. "What exactly do you mean? You think the Alliance brass is holding out on us?"

Pressly jabbed a few fingers into the table in front of him as if to make a point. "Why send a Spectre—a _turian_ Spectre – on a shakedown run? Why send one of the most decorated Special Force officers in the service? It doesn't make sense." There was both uneasiness and disgust in his voice.

Shepard acknowledged and understood his point with a nod of her head. "I'll see if I can get some straight answers when I talk to the Captain."

His posture slacked immediately as if he was a little more comfortable with her now. "Good luck, Commander."

She gave him a nod and turned to move on to the Comm Room. As she wove her way through the space she passed by Doctor Chakwas and Corporal Jenkins.

"Ha! You watch too many spy vids, Jenkins." The older woman gave Jenkins a light-hearted smile in reply before watching Shepard walk up to them.

"What do you think, Commander? This is my big chance. I need to show the brass what I can do!" Jenkins hands were closed into fists and his eyes were wild with the excitement of a child.

Shepard remembered that same feeling, even if it was from so long ago. "You're young, Corporal." Shepard watched his facial features. "You've got a long career ahead of you. Don't let your excitement cloud your judgment and get you killed. Remember: a good soldier stays cool even under fire."

Jenkins drew up like a dog that had been hit on the nose with a rolled up paper. "Don't worry, ma'am. I'm not going to screw this up."

Shepard placed her hands behind her back and looked back and forth between Chakwas and Jenkins. "Captain's waiting for me," she stated in a casual manner.

"Goodbye Commander," Chakwas responded softly as she crossed her arms.

Shepard gave them a nod and quietly walked passed them.

Her next stop was the door to the Comm Room. She still didn't understand why there were so many precautions and authorizations needed for a "shakedown run" but she didn't question her superiors either. She removed the glove from her right hand and placed the flesh of her fingers on the scanner next to the door. A soft _beep _was heard as the scanner turned green and the door opened. Shepard stepped inside as she pulled the glove back onto her hand.

The silhouette of a turian entered her vision as she walked down the darkened hallway. He had his back facing her as he examined surveillance of some landscape she didn't recognize.

"Commander Shepard," Nihlus began in greeting while still scrutinizing the paused scene in front of him. His tone was strong and his words reverberated throughout the small room.

Shepard halted in mid-step as he spoke her name. She gazed on his form as he took his time to turn and regard her. She wondered how, even with his back turned, he knew it was her.

Nihlus crossed his arms as if dissatisfied and turned to face her. He was tall; taller than her by at least a full head and he had white facial markings covering most of his features. Shepard's blue eyes fell on his predatory green ones as he continued the conversation. "I was hoping you'd get here first. It will . . . give us a chance to talk."

Shepard had been around turians before but she wasn't familiar enough with them to read their peculiar features and know what they meant. She lifted a single brow and repeated his words. "Chance to talk?"

The Spectre began to stalk back and forth in the small room, his mandibles twitching as he spoke. "I'm interested in this world we're going to—Eden Prime. I've heard it's quite beautiful." He stopped, placed his hands behind his back and regarded Shepard, waiting for an answer.

Shepard's brows creased as she responded. "I've never been there."

"But you know that it's somewhat of a symbol for your people. Proof that humanity can not only establish colonies but _protect _them . . . but how safe is it really?"

Shepard was having a hard time trying to decide if the question was born out of curiosity or if it was a different beast entirely—a veiled threat. She decided to take the safest route in the conversation by answering a question with a question. "Do you know something?"

"Your people are still newcomers, Shepard." His keen green eyes focused intently on her. "The galaxy is a dangerous place. There are threats far greater than you realize. Is the Alliance truly ready for this?"

A soft hiss from the door sounded behind her as the Captain quietly entered. His footsteps echoed throughout the small room, each one growing louder than the other before he came to stand beside Shepard. He was an older man, in his late forties, with a determined gaze and an honorable air about him.

"I think it's about time we told the Commander what's _really_ going on." Anderson's voice was final and resolute as his gaze rested upon her.

Nihlus complied and revealed a critical piece of information without hesitation. "This mission is far more than a simple shakedown run."

Shepard allowed those words to sink in and then pressed for further information. "Is someone going to fill me in, Captain?"

Captain Anderson fiddled with the cuffs at the end of his sleeves as he spoke. "We're making a covert pick-up on Eden Prime. _That _is why we needed the stealth systems operational."

Shepard pressed her brows together and asked another question. "There must be a reason you didn't tell me about this, sir?"

"This comes down from the top; information on a strictly need-to-know basis." Anderson planted one hand in the other to drive the gravity of the point home. He then moved around Shepard to stand in front of her. "A research team on Eden Prime unearthed some kind of beacon during an excavation. It was Prothean."

Shepard tilted her head to the side and her features betrayed her curiosity. "I thought the Protheans vanished 50,000 years ago?"

Shepard's mind began to drift in and out of her own thoughts as the conversation turned deeper and more complicated. She was trying to piece together the jagged puzzle and make sense of it all.

"—based on Prothean technology."

"—could affect every species."

"—improve relations with the Council."

Anderson's next statement made Shepard's thoughts grow quiet and allowed the butterflies in her stomach to erupt. "Nihlus wants to see you in action, Commander. He's here to evaluate you." Anderson watched as Shepard's form grew terribly still.

Nihlus began to circle her like a predator would stalk its prey.

"What's going on, Captain?" Shepard's voice held a hint of caution as she followed Nihlus with her eyes.

The Captain explained a few things to Shepard before Nihlus intervened. "I put _your_ name forward as a candidate for the Spectres."

Shepard's lashes fluttered in disbelief as she looked over at the turian. "Why would a turian want a human in the Spectres?"

Nihlus shook his head as if disappointed by her ignorance. "I don't care that you're human, Shepard. I only care that you can do the job."

Shepard hesitated before replying; her mind was busy with the questions of how her life might change and what she did to stumble upon this lucky opportunity. "I . . . assume this is good for the Alliance?" It was a general question, but accurate enough to sense how Anderson felt on the subject.

"Earth needs this, Shepard. We're counting on you." Anderson pointed at her, his features grim but determined.

Those few words echoed in the small room, gathering weight and intensity the quieter they became. Shepard's shoulders suddenly felt a lot heavier.

"Eden Prime will be the first of many missions together, Commander." Nihlus turned to her after speaking, unyieldingly penetrating her gaze with his.

"You'll be in charge of the ground team. Nihlus will accompany you to observe the mission." Anderson waved toward the turian in a quick motion as he spoke.

After the butterflies in Shepard's stomach quietly fluttered away, she began to ask as many questions as possible to keep herself fully aware and informed of the situation at hand. The subjects in the conversation included Protheans, Eden Prime, and the beacon she would need to retrieve.

Shepard took a breath and nodded her head once she felt centered again. She saluted both Anderson and Nihlus in respect. "Just give the word, Captain."

"We should be getting close to Eden-" Anderson's words were cut off harshly by the pilot over the intercom.

"Captain! We've got a problem." The pilot's voice was corded with urgency and distress.

"What's wrong, Joker?" The older man's bushy brows knitted together as he looked toward the center of the room.

"Transmission from Eden Prime, sir. You better see this." Joker responded over the comm.

"Bring it up on screen." Anderson announced as he moved toward it.

The scene before Shepard was a gruesome one. An image of blood; of war. She allowed a frown to sink into her lips; she could almost smell the smoke and death from the screen in front of her. The desperation in people's voices asking for help tugged at Shepard's protective side. The sounds of gunfire echoed from the poor video before the image blinked out of existence and left a shadowy static in its wake.

"Reverse and hold at 38.5." Anderson's coffee-colored eyes gazed intensely at the screen in front of them.

An image blinked on screen; a silhouette of a creature born from the sky.

"This mission just got a lot more complicated," Anderson finally said aloud. There was a certain tension in his words that made Shepard's mind echo with words from a few moments passed.

_We're counting on you._

"Tell Alenko and Jenkins to suit up, Commander. You're going in." Anderson nodded toward her and then turned to follow Nihlus out of the room.

A deathly quiet struck the vacant room as Shepard's gaze landed on the frozen image in front of her. Her brows creased in confusion as she stared at the unidentified object. She hadn't seen _anything _like it before.

As Shepard turned to leave the room a peculiar sensation washed over her from the inside out and her skin suddenly tingled as if the universe itself had whispered a secret to her.


End file.
